I just woke up from the worst dream I’ve had in awhile. We were at a waterpark and for some reason I took Clara and Anna to the hairstylist there for a haircut. She cut Anna’s hair super short — and gave her bangs — even though I told her not to. I was distraught. Then my wedding ring shattered — with tiny diamonds scattering everywhere.
As I was roused for the dream — and so grateful that both of my little girls have their long hair still intact and my ring is all in one piece — I was struck by the desire to write for the first time in a very long time. I haven’t really been writing or sharing here lately for a handful of reasons — I’m busy, of course — but when have I not been? But the most valid reason is that I don’t feel like I need to write anymore. When we were going through infertility and the babies were little — writing saved me. And now… Now, we’ve made it through the “hard part.” We survived infertility and came out on the other side with three children — any infertile’s dream. We survived the early years with twins plus a toddler. We survived moving, and barely having a support system besides the people we were willing to pay, and not having friends in a new area. And our marriage survived intact as well.
We made it. We survived. We endured. And the truth is, we are still surviving. We are still enduring. Now, our days consist of the crazy balance of trying to both work full-time and be there for the kids. Of figuring out what’s for dinner, filling cups, and rushing the girls to dance class. Of balancing it all — and keeping it all together — and remembering our priorities. It still sometimes feels hard. Okay, it still a lot of the time feels hard… But we’re coming out on top. There is evidence. We have a house full of love and laughter. And messes, of course. But lots of love too. And despite the challenges (many of them that are highlighted here for the world to see) we’ve ended up with three beautiful, healthy, happy children. Mike and I have a strong marriage, despite all of the challenges and bumps in the road. We’ve made friends. We have support outside of a computer. Outside of our families. Outside of babysitters.
And the truth is, on this side of things — there really isn’t much to write about. When life is good — even overly good to the point of being stressful — there just isn’t much to say. I can’t write a post about the kid’s keeping me up all night anymore — the only person keeping me up all night is myself. I could write about how much work sucked today — but truly, no one cares. Just like they really didn’t care about how hard it was with two newborns and a 1-year-old. Sure, I can write cheesy posts about what Bo said today, or the funny thing that Anna did — but why not just post those on Facebook or Instagram (I’m JWeitl5)?
Also, somewhere along the way, I’ve become more afraid of what I’m writing. More afraid of how it impacts others. How it might one day impact the kids. It’s easy to write the monthly round-ups, cataloging what we’ve done for the month, because it’s just a list of activities — but it’s hard to put my heart on the page anymore. I don’t want any mom to read my blog and think, “She’s got it figured out.” or “She makes it look easy.” or “She is totally screwing up her kids.” Or really, for anyone to think anything about me and my family. And I know, from people telling me, that was happening when I was writing regularly. Let me just say, despite how the blog may have sounded, I’ve never figured it out. It’s always challenging. And yes, I may actually be screwing them up daily — but I’m doing everything I can not to. I’m making the choices that I think are the correct ones for my kids. For my family. For my marriage. For myself. And yes, most likely all of them don’t agree with anyone else’s choices. But don’t for a second think I haven’t thought it through and that my kids aren’t my number one priority. They always are and always will be.
So what is the point of this ramble? Well — two things actually. Over the last year or so, I’ve tried to make the blog more of a memoir — and mostly failed at it. I still plan to post the monthly round-up posts, vacation posts, a trickle here and there — but the blog as it once was, is no more. There will never be in-depth, introspective posts here again. The kids are older now. Bo is reading. And it just isn’t needed. I’ll never write anything here that is worthy of syndication, because my heart just isn’t here anymore.
Also, I want this post to serve as a reminder to myself in my older, hopefully wiser years, when I’m reading back through the “ole” blog and judging myself, and my choices. A reminder that I made the best choices and did what I thought was best at each stage — even if it didn’t work out for the best in the long-run. A reminder that all of those pictures are worth it. A reminder of what the time in my life was like when my children were small. A reminder that I need to be there for my kids and my grandkids in every way possible. A reminder of the need for a support system, especially during those baby years – and to do my best to be compassionate to young parents. A reminder to be kind and understanding to my own children as they grow and make choices I don’t agree with… A reminder to love them and support them with my whole heart, always.
So going forward, I know some of you will continue to check-in — but if you’ll looking for more then happy vacation summaries or a list of what we’ve been up to — I’m sad to say you won’t find it here anymore. In a way, it’s The End…
***** I just wrote this in 20 minutes. And I’m not going to proofread it. Or reread it. I’m just going to publish it, before I chicken out and it sits in the draft folder for a year.*****